


traditions

by katewritessometimes



Category: Good Omens (TV), Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:54:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22065079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katewritessometimes/pseuds/katewritessometimes
Summary: this is for bella whose oc is decarabia i love u happy new year can't wait to kiss u on ur forehead mwah x
Kudos: 1





	traditions

“The humans have a funny tradition tonight, you know.”

The words tumble off Jophiel’s lips the way the bubbles had poured out of the recently popped champagne. Decarabia raises an eyebrow at her suddenness and Jophiel can’t help but blush, lithe fingers tucking a loose curl behind her ear. 

“It’s a neat little thing,” she continues, a little gold twinkle in green eyes that firmly avoid the demon’s. “I think so anyway. Inspired by German and English folklore yet still practiced today all around the world.”

  
  
“Are you going to tell me what it is or just tell me things about it?” Decarabia’s question is teasing and has no bite, the smirk on terracotta-painted lips plain as day even while hidden behind the crystal clear champagne glass. This is what they do, what they’ve always done; excited rambles from the angel that don’t make much sense, a teasing query for clarification from the demon, a laugh and a smile from the angel, and warmth in the air that sparkled like champagne.

“A midnight kiss! They say that the first person you encounter in the New Year and the nature of the encounter sets the tone for the whole rest of the year!” Jophiel exclaims, gesticulating with her glass. It’s Decarabia’s turn to blush then although theirs touches just the tip of their nose and ears in a way that can be blamed on the alcohol in her glass. 

“A kiss, hm?” Decarabia asks, tilting their head in thought. It isn’t as if this is something they’ve never done, something they don’t do often, but the intimacy of human tradition is undeniable. It’s all symbols and meanings, things that mean other things that show love and importance. It’s still hard for Decarabia to believe they deserve the love they receive from Jophiel but they're still glad to be the recipient of it all the same. 

Decarabia’s head tilts and her lips purse in an overdramatic show of thought, a hand moving to stroke their chin. “Well, we’d best make sure this year is a good one, hm?” Jophiel laughed and nodded in agreement, stepping into Decarabia’s space as the television began to count down from thirty. “We’d best.” A hand lifts to tuck a strand of hair behind the demon’s ear before settling against their cheek, thumb stroking the sharp cheekbone as the countdown slinks into the final few seconds.

_ Five, four, three, two, one. Happy New Year! _

With that, Jophiel presses up onto the tips of her toes, sugar plum pink lips gladly pressing against warm orange and free hand moving to Decarabia’s hair. Flowers spring from her fingertips as they kiss, pink roses and baby’s breath that stand out bright in the crow-black curls she adores so very much. Decarabia’s hands settle on Jophiel’s waist to hold her close and, being ethereal beings that don’t really need to engage in normal human functions, they partake in this traditional human kiss for far longer than any human could. 

“Happy New Year, Deca.”   
“Happy New Year, Jo. Here’s to six thousand more.”

The London fireworks are bigger and brighter than ever before. Some said they look ethereal while others think they look demonic. Only these two know that both together create the art that paints the night sky.


End file.
